


i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want ( just not home)

by Anonymous



Category: ONF (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Wizards, Angst, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Blood and Injury, Explicit Language, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Song: my tears ricochet (Taylor Swift), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, literally just mentioned once, seungjoon's slutty red shorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The realization hits him like a train, fast and painful and he gasps for the air he knows he no longer needs.Seungjun is dead.
Relationships: Kim Hyojin & Lee Seungjun | J-Us
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18
Collections: Anonymous





	1. didnt have it in myself to go with grace

**Author's Note:**

> please read this !!!!  
> ok so no.1, imagine them looking like they did during the kill this love stage on road to kingdom (not the clothes but the hair),  
> ((also hyojins hair moves like howls from howls moving castle when hes angry))
> 
> this story is based on the song "my tears ricochet" by taylor swift so i would recommend listening to that.  
> and please be careful and dont read if youre triggered by graphic description of self harm, mentions of needles and stitches, a lottttttt of talk about blood (like a LOT), self deprecating thoughts, self hatred, alcohol abuse, mentions of other violent self harm like hanging/ throwing oneself against walls. also i put referenced sexual assault in the tags even though its really so inexplixitly mentioned that you might miss it, but yeah just in case.  
> this is not a happy story im sorry.  
> (also its not entirely based off of the song bc in this they are best friends so some lines dont fit, the parts that matter are mainly "i didnt have it in myself to go with grace / you know i didnt want to have to haunt you / cursing my name wishing i stayed/ i can go anywhere i want just not home / )  
> i took some of the scenery of the mystery time from the nintendo game enchanted folk (animal crossing but with wizards)

Seungjun wakes up with a pounding headache.  
He doesn't remember at what point he passed out or why he didn't notice losing consciousness.

Something feels off but he can't put his finger on it and so he just decides to get up and look for hyojin to apologize.  
Anger is still luring in his guts, winding about like a hungry snake, fighting the stinging hurt and pain that also remained.  
He and hyojin had a terrible fight the other night and seungjun felt so disgusted with himself he had the extremely strong urge to kill himself but judging from him, well, waking up, he opted for getting inhumanly drunk instead.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he is met with his reflection in the long rusty bedroom mirror.  
He looks like a ghost against his bedsheets almost blending in with his white sheets and clothes. His almost translucent coloured hair isn't as light and fluffy as usual, instead it sticks to his sweaty forehead in greasy strands somehow seeming even more dead than usual.

He looks sickly pale, his colourless lips almost invisible against the rest of his face if not for his lower lip being split in the corner, swollen from the injury. A vague image of Hyojins fist connecting with his face flashes through his mind. Only his eyes are bloodshot and it looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.  
„that's one hell of a hangover“, he mutters, getting up to take a shower. When his hand comes up to brush the hair away from his forehead seungjun stopps in his tracks, the air in the room suddenly turning cold and deaf. 

_Six._

Six deep gaping cuts on both of his wrists, wilting the skin around the openings. He feels sick when he realizes hes able to see muscle, dizzy when he realizes theres no blood coming out of the wounds and his arms also being completely clean.  
Swallowing the bile rising up his throat he scans the room and sees a light smear of blood leading from his bed out of the door.

The realization hits him like a train, fast and painful and he gasps for the air he knows he no longer needs.

Seungjun was dead. 

„No no no no no no this can't be happening. Fuck. Fuck!“, he yells, looking up to the ceiling, begging for someone to hear him.  
This was not what he wanted. He didn't mean to kill himself. There were still barely any memories resurfacing from last night but he knew he definitely did not want to die being hated by his best friend. He had only meant to hurt himself a bit, maybe end up hospitalized so he could make it clear to hyojin that it was his fault alone that seungjun had /tried/ to take his life. 

That's how Seungjun worked. Take the pain someone else inflicted on him, turn it against himself but hope that it would bounce back to the other party, hurting them more in the end. 

After a timeframe he couldn't define the initial shock in his head was replaced by confusion because he had no idea why he was actually still on earth if he passed away last night. 

Checking his pockets for some kind of talisman that bound him here he realized the reason he probably even materialized as a spirit was because, well, Hyojin and him left things the farthest from finished they could be.  
With a small glimmer of hope he thought that maybe, if this was his purpose, Hyojin would be able to see him and they could work out what couldn't be worked out so he would be able to let go. 

Trying to locate Hyojin with his telepathic senses, his mind was slowly puzzling together the events of his last hours.

[the day before] 

As often, he had visited Hyojin in his magic shop. The weather was soft, a sweet breeze floating through the mild summer air. The deeply pink and purple tinged sky dipped the whole world into a weird rosy light, as if the universe had fallen in love.  
He made his way through the castle, strutting past the slim stained glass windows. His short red suede pants swayed slightly in the wind as he follower the small path down the  
hill into the forest that led to the small village.

The forest was quiet and dark as always, only a few mushrooms and crystals shimmering and blinking here and there.  
The older wizard was closing his shop when Seungjun arrived at his door.  
The last customer just left so seungjun sat down at the only chair in the store. Crystal balls and potions, scrolls and different kinds of ingredients decorated the walls and split the light falling in from outside into a million tiny particles, creating an even more mystical atmosphere, if that was even possible. The last rays of sun turned into thick syrupy beams as they were caught up in the dust settling on the windows, painting the room a dim golden glow.

Hyojin fit into it like someone created this world just for him.  
Blood red hair fell into his face, looking like someone spun a ruby into thousands of feather light strands. As always he was wearing a shimmering black robe with tiny golden stars and constellations embroidered. His favourite wizard's hat was discarded on the floor, a giant raven-cat snoring on it soundly, feathers ruffling with every breath. 

Hyojin looked exhausted, both mentally and physically, as he rubbed his eyes and propped his elbow up on the counter, tiredly eyeing seungjun.

„here, i brought you some food, figured you would work overtime again“, seungjun said handing a takeout box to the elder, seeing his face soften at the sweet gesture. 

„thanks jun, i'm not really hungry though, just very tired, the customers have been hell the past few days with the full moon coming up.“, he brushed a loose red strand out of his face and shovelled some chicken in his face, humming satisfied at the familiar taste of his favourite food. 

„that bad?“, seungjun asked, always fascinated with how terrible customers could be. 

„yeah, one guy tried to refund his already used up sleep dust and when i tried to explain to him that i cant refund him he just destroyed some of my crystall balls.“, before seungjun could make a stupid joke about testicals the elder waved his hand, showing some badly wrapped and blood soaked bandages to seungjun whose face scrunched up into a sad frown. 

„for a grade A wizard youre pretty fucking shit at taking care of wounds“, he mused getting up from the chair and retrieving the first aid kit from behind the counter.  
„here let me help you“, he returned to join hyojin at the counter and carefully started unwrapping the bandages.  
„this is really starting to look nasty, i'm sorry for that“, hyojin said, cringing at the translucent yellow mixing with the dark red in the bandages.  
„nah it's okay i know how to deal with that“, the younger replied and tried to ignore the way hyojins eyes immediately darted to the faded scars on his arms.

„this is gonna hurt really bad but it's still better than getting an infection later on so“, he mumbled before gently wiping the wound with an alcohol cotton swab.  
Hyojin hissed and gripped seungjuns knee so badly it almost broke his skin.

„whoah there tiger, at least buy me dinner first, '' Seungjun smirked in a bad attempt to lift the mood and hyojin barked out a pained laugh through his teeth.  
„fuck off this just really stings and your thighs are the only stress ball related thing in my reach right now.“

After carefully cleaning up Hyojins palm Seungjun moved the elders wrist a bit as if he was looking for something.

He took in a small breath and looked up at hyojin with a pained and apologetic look etched on his face.

„I just found a left over glass shard so this is REALLY gonna hurt now and i'm probably gonna have to stitch it up“, the small man said before plucking the shimmery triangle from the middle of hyojins hand. The elder drew in a breath so sharp it couldve cut steel as tears started to form in his eyes.  
„god i'm gonna curse the fucker who did this“, seungjun mumbled under his breath as he pressed some more cotton on the now newly reopened wound. Blood was flowing freely, blooming on hyojins hand as dark as his hair, slowly flowing over to seungjuns palm, a grossly beautiful contrast to his pale skin. 

The smell of iron was seeping through the air, sickly sweet like a midsummer night's death. 

Neither of them could heal skin with their magic so seungjun was in charge of stitching up the elders hand, which was proving to be quiet hard because hyojin was behaving like a rabid dog while seungjuns grip on him began getting weaker because the smell of blood was clouding his senses and making him dizzy. 

„this is so fucking disgusting im sorry“, hyojin apologized for the hundrethd time, stuttering his words with tears silently running down his face, pain blinding his sight. His entire underarm was covered in blood now and Seungjun's hands were no better, crimson sticking to his nails like he dipped them into a glass of red ink. 

„it's okay, it's not your fault, I'd rather have me pass out than to have your arm fall off from an infection.“, he just huffed finally cutting off the yarn he was using to sew the corners of the gash back together. like a red thread being severed, changing the course of a story, something shifted in the atmosphere, faint and unnoticeable to the both of them. Once more, he softly ran a generous amount of alcohol wipes across the injury before wrapping a new bandage around hyojins now shaking hands and frowned in concern.

they sat in silence for a while, attention focused on the small red stain that was starting to form under the bandage.  
„if this doesn't look better in a few hours you're gonna have to see Changyoon at the hospital“, Seungjun said, meeting others eyes to make clear that he was serious. , 

Hyojin softly shook his head, his hair swaying around like a poppy field in a brewing storm. 

„minkyun is on sick leave right now and i really can't afford to close this store, not even speaking about how the city folk might need stuff from here. Its full moon soon“,

„yeah you mentioned that earlier“, seungjun interrupted him, running a hand over his head in frustration.

Hyojins eyes followed his bony fingers and he thought about how seungjuns hair looked like moonlight, so white it was almost translucent and he drifted off, pondering how the smaller man reminded him of the moon anyways, always there but too far away and always hiding something. 

Hyojin was brought back to reality when he noticed how his friend started looking clearly upset about what he put himself through on a day to day basis.  
The blonde took a breath and looked up from hyojins hand, right into his eyes.

„you know you could always just move in with me and quit this job, the castle is way too big for me anyways and then you wouldn't have to deal with so much shit every day.“, he offered, only earning a bitter chuckle from hyojin who was absolutely not in the mood to discuss financial matters with spoiled rich seungjun. 

„jun you know that i can't just quit a job that easily, especially when this is basically my own store at this point with jaeyoung always being out of town. I can't just leave..“ he tried to end the discussion but seungjun was getting riled up. He had always had a problem expressing his care for others in an endearing way so it often came out as aggressive when he really didn't mean it to. 

„but it's not really your store right? Just leave, jaeyoung can figure this out on his own, that's not your responsibility. Besides, you have learned all there is from here so why not take a break for a while and then try something new?“, hyojin knew that seungjuns intentions were only pure, led by a frustrating kind of dense innocence only financially well off people had.

See, when seungjun worked, he worked for fun. He worked to collect experience, or because he was bored, just skipping from one place to another.  
Hyojin didn't have that luxury. He worked to survive. So it doesn't matter if he developed any new skills or if it was fun, or if he was stuck at the same draining janitor job for a year, because he just needed those jobs.  
So trying to rationally talk to someone like seungjun about anything money or job related was like yelling at the moon expecting an answer back. 

He gritted his teeth. „can we just talk about something else please.“ it was more of a demand than a question. 

„no. Please. Just take a break and stay with me for a while. I can help you out financially you know that i-“, he was cut off from hyojin flinching away from him as if he had just given him an electric shock. 

„no! You don't understand. Just because my job is a bit hard sometimes i cant just fucking quit. It might work like that for your but im.not.you. I need this job and I won't take charity.“,

his voice had risen to a dangerous level, making Seungjun flinch and he shuffled in his seat trying to put more space between the two. The room was beginning to feel smaller, hyojins voice taking up all the space with tiny little seungjun in the middle, trying to not get swallowed up. Hyojins eyes suddenly appeared darker, like coal where the fire had stopped burning. His hair was looking like a whirlwind of blood and poppies and stormy fields more than ever and it made him frightening.  
Seungjun cowered into himself, regretting every word he had uttered in the past few minutes.  
„i-im sorry, you're right. Sorry. I didn't want to upset you. I'm just always so worried.“

It seemed like something dark had gotten into hyojins soul, as if the glass that poked through his skin had poisoned his insides, because he looked even more terrifying, like he was actually spitting fire at Seungjun while his eyes were as cold as dry ice.  
Hyojin liked that shift in power. Suddenly he was not the one having his hand stitched together and wincing pathetically like a dog. Now he was the one filling up the room, consuming every bit of air, his aura towering over seungjuns whose eyes were frantically darting around the room, thin hands shaking and fidgeting at his hair. 

„no youre not fucking sorry“, he hissed, making seungjun flinch again as if a lighting had just shaken the small store.  
„if you were even a bit sorry you wouldn't bring this up for the i don't know how many fuckingth time, because we talked about this. I am not your poor little helpless charity case. And the only reason you want me at your castle is because you cant stand the fucking empty space and you dont want to think about how nothing you have ever done had any bit of sincerity in it because you always do everything for fun, seungjun. You have never believed in anything in your life so dont fucking try to pretend you believe in me”, some of the shelves started rattling, hyojins emotion-driven magic manifesting in shifts of space and while it made hyojin fell all the more powerful, it made seungjun want to sprint for the door.

„i'm sorry!! fuck!“, seungjuns voice rose a bit. He was beginning to behave like a frightened animal. Since he couldn't get out of the situation he tried to pick at any straws that could get him out of there. 

As if the weather was playing a cruel joke on them, thunder rolled over the area, as thick and heavy as the atmosphere in the room and soon there were buckets pouring and pouring over the roof of the tiny store.  
Seungjun was mimicking the weather, tears now spilling over, out of anger or hurt he couldn't tell. 

„I'm not trying to patronize you i'm trying to genuinely help,'' he snapped, voice cracking as sobs were coming through.  
„but oh no mister high and mighty must do all of it by himself! But then hes crying like a fucking baby when he gets his hand stitched up because he couldnt even do it himfucking self“; he shouted, trying to grasp at anything that could hurt hyojin because he was so frantic and terriyfied, his mind going so fast he was only thinking of a way out, a way to hurt the an in front of him. 

„oh spare me your fucking bullshit seungjun“; the other yelled back, taking a step towards the shaking frame that was his friend. He leaned into seungjuns face, eyes glistening like venom, his red hair falling into the others face like blood, mixing with the moonlight on his head. Hyojin opened his mouth to say something but he was interrupted,  
„you're just scared of change“, Seungjun sneered, impish grin etched on his face like a porcelain mask. It felt like hyojins touch had shifted some of his venomous anger onto seungjun because he stopped crying and went eerily calm.  
„coward“, he spat and all hyojin could see was red. He grabbed seungjuns shirt and slammed him into the wall, not caring about the drawers that cracked and opened up from the impact. Seungjun hissed from the crushing weigth on his shoulder blades but hyojin did not fucking care. 

„say that again i swear to god“, his mind was reeling, pure white rage overtaking his brain.

„fucking coward“ seungjun whispered, grinning even wider before hyojins fist slammed into his nose, then hit his lip, like a car colliding on a brick wall. Seungjun stumbled back, equally stunned from the force of his friend's fist and the fact that he had actually resorted to violence. 

„i-“ he started before crimson started to spill out of his nostrils, in a panic he tipped his head back attempting to stop it. It was flowing down the inside of his mouth, so when he felt like he was drowning in his own warm blood he quickly lowered his face again, trying to remain calm and not cry again.

Hyojin seemed stunned as he took in the smallers startled expression, red gushing out of his nose, trickling down his lip and pooling in the dent of his chin. 

With as much anger and coldness as seungjun could muster up in his now dulled voice he scream whispered a „fuck you hyojin“, before grabbing his bag and storming off into the pouring rain. 

As soon as the door slammed shut he started sprinting as if he was being chased by a pack of wild wolves.  
While his feet were hitting the pavement he started bawling, sobbing into the sky, hoping the clouds and the moon would somehow comfort him. Running like the water down his cheeks he didn't stop until his lungs were burning coals taking up the space in his chest that still needed air, but he kept running, running through the forest, up the hill to his lonely castle, not bothering to close the door as threw himself on the living room couch, wailing like his own heart was the very clouds that had ripped open to drown the world.

~~~

He cries like the world is ending, pure heart wrenching sadness drowning out the anger.  
He notices the leftover blood from hyojins injury that's still covering his hands and arms, remaining even after the rainy way home. Accepting the messy state he's already in he wipes his eyes aggressively, begging the friction to somehow make him stop crying. There's more blood still dropping out of his nose, mixing with snot and tears and it actually makes him belt out a bitter laugh, mind reeling from how pathetic and disgusting he feels.  
A familiar urge is crawling from the pit of his stomach to his fingertips and he wants to hurt himself, do anything to make this fiery shame and anger go away, he wants to scratch open his arms and paint his clothes red, or throw himself against the stone walls until he passes out or punch the marble statues until hit hand breaks, anything to make him feel in control.

Eventually he gets up from the couch, and makes his way to his mini bar. Various bottles of liquor seated on a big wall-covering shelf smile at him with their glittering contents.  
He is looking over his impressive collection, pondering on what would knock him out the fastest when his eyes land on the weirdly intricate shaped bottle his friend yuto had given him. Yuto is a potion master who regularly used his skills to create various types of liquor and since seungjun was known for crowding the bars in the village late at night various times a week, stumbling along endless paths and getting into trouble more often than not, yuto often gave him some of his new booze to taste, in hopes that the older man would get wasted in the safe comfort of his own house. 

Seungjun takes the small bottle, uncapped it and stirrs in ice and other contents from the bottles around his bar.  
Retaking his seat on the couch he tries to concentrate on each bitter drop that makes its way down his throat.  
Desperately knocking back a tequila shot a while later, he's trying to get the bad aftertaste hyojin left on his tongue out of his mouth, tries to burn away every trace of the words he spat earlier.  
He takes swigs out of his last bottle of wine and it feels as if he's directly pouring alcohol into his brain, filling it up, chasing away the shadows of hyojins grip on his arms.

When his insides are filled with a warm glow and he begins to calm down, the ugly, spiteful part of his mind is awakening, rearing its head, bad things in plan. 

Seungjun is seated on his velvet couch, limbs hanging loosely around him, eyes slightly closed but focused on the glistening crystals of the big ceiling chandelier.  
The anger is stirring somewhere under his thick foggy brain, attempting to break out and he's trying to think of how to get revenge on hyojin for hurting him so bad. 

The accusations or words he had thrown at seungjun were really not the problem, he knew he deserved them. Even though seungjun really had meant well, he knew he was worthless and only deserved hateful words even though it did hurt to hear them from one of the only people he had come to believe didn't hate him. 

_The problem_ was the fact that those words had hurt him, had gotten to him and teared at his heart strings.  
He felt weak and it made him feel disgusted with himself, as if his emotions were an intruder to his heart and his body was trying everything to get rid of them, wrapping them in nacreous layers of shame and anger, hard and shiny. All he wanted to do was rip that seemingly physical pearl-like bundle of emotion out of his chest. 

Feeling weak made him want to be violent, so he decided a good way to get revenge was to hurt himself in a way that would make hyojin regret his actions and beg for him to come back.  
The wizards tired eyes wandered through the room, looking for options. The castle had various towers and high story windows he could throw himself out of or he could return to the village and pick a fight in a bar until he was beat up and rendered motionless. His thoughts drift to one of his friends who was tall and broad and _bad._ He could visit him knowing that said friend would certainly take advantage of seungjuns drunken and fragile mind, and mangle his body until he was snapped in half. Maybe that would hurt hyojin, to find him thrown out onto the street with bruises everywhere. 

When he gets up to get another drink one sharp head movement makes his nose bleed again, warmth tracing the dried crusty treaks down his face so he decides to finally clean himself up.  
Grabbing the mixture that has begun to release a iridescent steam he briefly wonders what on earth yuto actually brewed together, before stumbling to the bathroom.

He starts to let in a bath in hopes of calming down and warming up a bit because his clothes were still wet from the rain, sticking to his thin frame engulfing him like a layer of snow.  
Shortly after, the emerald herb infused water is rushing into the quartz bathtub and filling the room with a steady rush of white noise, blending together with seungjuns slow thoughts.  
He tries to avoid looking into the mirror, taking an alcohol wipe to clean the mess covering the lower half of his face.  
He tries to be gentle but still hisses at the contact of the disinfectant with his skin. As sharp pain shoots through his injured nose he's reminded of the way hyojin hissed when he was using a wipe just like this one to treat hyojins wound.  
His hand grips the tissue harder when his hands begin shaking, tears threatening to spill over again and he scrubs his face until the skin feels raw and tingly, fending off the images of hyojins poisonous eyes. 

He still looks feral and terrible but ignores that while stripping off his damp clothes that still harbor the slightest hint of the incense smell ever present in hyojins magic shop. With a sharp motion and flick of his wrist he sets the clothes on fire, not looking back as he lowers himself into the scorching water, hoping to dissolve like an uncoated pill as soon as his skin hits the water.  
That doesn't happen but the infused water works its magic and helps his muscles relax when his mind is still shards and shambles of what was a beautiful friendship just hours ago.

The heat of the water and the alcohol in his system steadily make him more dizzy so he gets out of the tub before he falls asleep and drowns.  
When he wraps himself up in a warm towel and searches the room for a nail clipper his eyes land on something thin and shiny and

_Oh._

the small bitter creature inside of him jolts awake as a bad, terrible idea burns through his body igniting every cell of his body.  
Seungjun slowly picks up the straight razor and gently traces the amber handle with his fingertips as if it could fall apart at any second. He snaps it open and eyes the black razor blade.

_`This could do`_ , he thinks to himself and chuckles bitterly when he remembers that hyojin had given him this razor, handmade from a dragon's tooth that would guarantee unwavering sharpness so he could take care of his morning stubbles.

Being no stranger to self inflicted harm he knows he could definitely put himself into the hospital with this. The creature jumps against his chest excitedly, hungry for him to make this idea reality. Really, it was perfect. Hyojin would have to live with the knowledge that he hurt seungjun so bad he would resort to this, relapse after an eternity. All the late night breakdown calls and soft strokes through hair and doing everything to not go back to that place for nothing.  
His eyes graze over the faded scars on his arms and something in his head is telling him it would be a bad idea to handle anything sharp in his current state of mind but the petty revenge hungry creature is all consuming so he takes in a shuddering breath before putting the blade to his wrist.

Never having been able to bear great amounts of pain he opts for a few swift motions, not even looking down while the razor glides through his skin as if he was made of styrofoam.  
He grabs the razor with his other hand, a bit shakingly and is convinced yutos present was more of a pain and mind numbing potion than actual alcohol because he can't feel a thing when his nerves should be screaming in protest, begging him to stop.  
He whips the razor across his other wrist three times before his trembling fingers drop the razor and he's forced to lower his gaze.  
He freezes and feels like passing out when he realizes what he's done. Hyojin was definetly not lying when he talked about how fucking sharp dragon tooth blades were, because hes bleeding worse than any nosebleed hes ever had.  
Crimson gushes out of the wounds and he stumbles to his medicine cabinet, frantically looking for some kind of bandage he can put on them.  
He throws up when he sees that the cuts are pulsating, indicating he hit his vital arteries and between his chest violently heaving up his dinner and the rest of his body shaking worse than ever before seungjun realizes that he fucked up and that there's very few chances he's actually gonna make it out of this.

His mind starts slipping in and out of consciousness and he runs to his room to find his phone.  
Even though he tries his best to squeeze his wrist there's still so much blood it makes his head spin, thick scent filling up his mind and almost making him throw up again.  
He stumbles into his room and calls hyojin.  
He doesn't even mean to call him, he's still angry and would rather die than confess to the older that he made a mistake but he's so out of it his body and mind are acting on instinct and one of those is to seek help from his only constant.  
After a few rings hyojin picks up which surprises seungjun because the other must still be fuming and cursing him to the moon and back, but his senses have always been extraordinary so he might have sensed that something was off.

„why are you calling me“, hyojins hiss is at least as sharp as the razor and seungjun almost drops the speaker from flinching.

„jin, i. I f-fucked up. Didn't mean to, I just. Just ,wanted to stop. Rid my self just. So guilt-y“,

seungjuns mind is spinning and the words tumbling from his lips like cinder blocks make no sense but weight heavy enough that hyojin immediately knows that something is very, very wrong.

„i have no idea what you just said but you're obviously not well so i'm coming to get you before something happens.“ there's scrambling on the other side as if hyojin is walking somewhere and seungjun starts crying again, the anger and confusion battling inside of him, making everything even harder to grasp.

„there's so much blood“, he croaks out, a sobs rattling his whole body and he can practically see hyojin freeze in his tracks and draw in a shaky breath.

„god fuck seungjun what the hell did you do? You sound drunk, did you slip in the bathroom and hit your head again? It's gonna be okay though im gonna get you.“, he sounds composed, as if he's certain Seungjun only hit his head in a drunken haze.

The calmness in the olders voice is somewhat sobering and as seungjuns mind clears up momentarily he remembers that he's still mad.  
„no i'm. I don't need y-your help. Don't know wh y i called. You. Stay away so i can leave in peace, finally rid of m-me.“ he hiccups, trying to sound as composed and angry as possible. The room keeps spinning and he can't even make out what hyojin is saying as the darkness in the corners of his mind starts seeping inside his vision, tugging at every string of consciousness like a viscous composer.

„seungjun. Seungjun! Do not fucking fall asleep. What did you do?“, the voice seems so far away and he briefly wonders if the wizard had cast a space warping spell before his eyes loll back into his skull and he dips back into the silk sheets and through a soft velvet darkness, falling and falling and never hitting the ground.


	2. weeping in a sunlit room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room /_
> 
> _You wear the same jewels that I gave you  
>  As you bury me /_
> 
> _And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?_  
>  Cursing my name, wishing I stayed __

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOOOOOOO. i wrote this chapter literally in a day so i apologize for any mistakes but yeah.  
> a lot of stuff hyojin is saying and feeling makes no sense bc as you will notice, hes mcfucking losing it.
> 
> this chapter is less gory even though theres still blood mentioned, and self hatred and dealing with grief. hyojin is also literally going insane so i dont know if that might be distressing to read lol?  
> so proceed w caution cause this shits angsty

Sunlight is falling through the wide windows of the funeral home, reflecting off of the dust dancing around and giving the whole room a warm bright feeling. 

But hyojin hates it, to him the sunlight is ugly, rotten, and he wishes he could cover the windows with thick black velvet curtains and never have to see the sun again. he is wondering how the sun could remain so steady while falling into the room from 39493494983 km away, when he could barely handle falling through the days after seungjuns death. 

He was furious, the air slowly turning dry around him.

How dare the sun rise at all anymore, how dare the world still turn after his best friend died. He couldn't understand.  
And how dare he even show up? He should have thrown himself into the next river and rot into the ground days ago. How dare he stand there, trembling, dry sobs wracking through him like an avalanche when he was the one who killed seungjun? 

But most of all he hates everyone else. How dare , hyojin isn't sure he remembers his name, hui?, the noodle guy, be slumped in front of the marble casket in the middle of the room, wailing his heart out like a desperate wolf on a full moon when he didn't even really know seungjun. How dare anyone sit down and shed tears when hyojin is right there, burning and sinking.

The feeling of the sun on his face makes him want to vomit. He doesnt deserve something so soft to touch his eyes, his lips, his hands, when all they ever did was destroy.

The way seungjun had looked at him at their last encounter haunted him more than any nightmare ever could. The ways the anger and pain had pooled out of the white haired man in the form of tears and blood and how he spat his name before leaving and never returning. 

Hyojin tries to blink the memories away with the tears that are itching in the corners of his eyes, wanting to spill out. He hasn't cried yet, only been in a numb state of disbelief, mixed with rage and disappointment. Hyojin fears that if he ever shed one single tear again he would not stop weeping until every room in seungjuns castle was bursting at the seams, eventually breaking down and drowning the whole city with him. 

As he steps forward to join hui at the casket some people utter their condolences and other words he doesn't register, and he doesn't care. No amount of kind words will ever mean anything to him again. 

Hui looks up at him, face swollen with snot running out of his nose, his wails sounding like a mosquito just 300 times the volume. With trembling hands he passes hyojin a warm cup of the homemade noodles he sells in the forest downtown, (they taste terrible, but no one has the heart to tell him otherwise). 

„they were his favourite, here“, huis lip trembles and he has to pause for a minute before he can continue.  
„hyojin i, i“, he breaks down again, clasping hyojins shoulders like a lifeline.  
„im so sorry hyojin. Im sorry. I know how you feel, seungjun was a dear friend to me too..“ hui doesn't register hyojins body going completely stiff so he just continues rambling, what seems to be comforting words to him, but each one adds to the liquid flames pooling at the bottom of hyojins stomach and after a while it just tips over and explodes as he shoves hui away from him as hard as possible, shattering the bowl of noodles on the floor. Hui eyes him with a frightened and hurt look on his face, eyes widening in shock. 

„do not try to talk to me like you have any fucking idea how im feeling. You didn't know seungjun. Selling him your soggy fucking noodles a few times a week doesnt qualify him as your friend. You don't have any right to be here.“  
Hyojins voice is loud and sharp, cutting through the air and separating him from everyone else.  
He wants to rip out his own vocal chords because all he can think about is that the last time he raised his voice like that was the day he killed seungjun. 

„you don't know... you don't know how often i did or did not see him“, hui mumbles out quietly, avoiding hyojins dragon-like glare at any cost. 

„we were very good friends, i helped him collect mushrooms multiple times..“, tears flow down huis cheeks again and hyojin can't comprehend that thought.  
He can't, won't believe that there could be anyone else who deserved to be sad about this loss. His heart is carrying every ounce of grief thats possibly left in the world so there's no way someone else could mourn.

The people around him are looking at him, not interrupting because they understand how close hyojin was to seungjun. That's probably the reason why no one is trying to stop him from lashing out at hui, they all _pity_ him.  
And that makes hyojins searing fiery rage boil up inside of him even more, clouding his vision as he shakes the poor raven haired man in his hands. 

before he can escalate a small hand pushes him away from hui, who just slumps back down, eyes empty.  
„hyojin. Please stop, he just wanted to comfort y-“  
„YOU!“, hyojin fucking screams when he recognized the potion masters face.  
„ _you _gave him that fucking POISON that killed him!“; the flood is rushing through his ears so violently he doesnt even know how loud hes yelling, but he doesnt care. He just needs to go up in flames right now, fall apart in front of everyone like a bomb or a burning hurricane, turning everyone else to debris at his feet.  
„how could you give him anything?! you know he had a problem! you know often hyunggu had to call me when he passed out at the bar again. you / _knew_ / and you still let him get drunk alone at home.“  
Hyojin is panting, gasping for air trying to outrun his thoughts, trying to pass on the blame as if he was playing a grieving relay. __

__„how“, yuto halts for a second, contemplating if he should continue. „how do you know if he drank something? Were you there when it happened?“ the small man asks and everything goes numb again, pictures flashing through hyojins mind,_ _

__him running up the stairs to seungjuns room, passing by the blood stained floor_ _

__him crashing through the door, discovering his best friend, his _world _dead and cold on the mattress, crimson pooling around him.___ _

____him trying to somehow save anything, but to no avail._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____In hopes of regaining some kind of power Hyojin grabs onto yutos collar and swings at him.  
He can't even control his movements anymore, just punches and punches the face in front of him, somehow trying to get rid of the memory of seungjuns skin. Maybe if he breaks his hand he‘ll forget.  
But then yutos face changes and suddenly he sees seungjun and yelps out while falling on his back and forgetting to breathe out of shock.  
Seungjun looks down at him amused, devilish glint in his eyes like he enjoys seeing hyojin at his mercy. _ _ _ _

____„No. Im sorry. Im sorry seungjun please dont hurt me don't hurt me i didt mean to i'm so sorry“, the dam is finally broken and tears are spilling out of his eyes as he frantically tries to get away from the man's grasp.  
„hyojin what. What are you talking about, it's still me, yuto“, he hears a voice he doesnt recognize and even though he knows it's not seungjuns he still keeps his eyes shut and shrinks into himself like a scared fox._ _ _ _

____„no no no go away i didn't mean to kill you im sorry im sorry im sorry“ he repeats and repeats the words like somehow if he says it often enough they’ll turn into a spell to keep thoughts of seungjun away._ _ _ _

____„hyojin. Open your eyes.“ gentle hands pull him up to his feet and guide him to the place he would do anything to avoid. The casket. „you don't have to look at him but he's here hyojin. seungjun´s here and he's not me.“ yuto says with a sad frown and points at the open box._ _ _ _

____Hyojin wants to scream and bolt out of the house but if he doesn't convince himself that the figure lying there is actually his friend, he would see him around every corner for the rest of his life.  
One glance at the body punches the air out of him, out of the room, out of the world maybe.  
A heavy weight pushes down on hyojins eardrums and he can't hear anything, suddenly engulfed in water only he can feel. _ _ _ _

____There, in a casket way too big for his small frame, lies seungjun. Hair once elegant and light like the moonlight reflecting off of dewy meadows, was now dull and flat. The morticians did a good job on preserving his porcelain skin, although it still somehow looks translucent, but hyojin can clearly see the split lip and swollen nose which /he/ was responsible for. He grips the marble so hard he might either break the stone or his fingers, and he hopes it would be his fingers so he could never hurt anyone ever again._ _ _ _

____Seengjun looks like he is just sleeping, as if, when you concentrate hard enough you could hear him breathe softly.  
He’s dressed in a weird green gown hyojin was sure he would have hated and it makes him want to have another violent outburst at how little everyone knew about seungjun. How would he ever be able to grieve the loss properly if seungjun was still living inside each of these people's heads in various weirdly warped versions they built of him themselves. _ _ _ _

____There are blooming red flowers placed all around seungjun, skillfully covering his underarms and the knowledge of what lay below them was almost worse than seeing the wounds head on._ _ _ _

____As hyojin takes a closer look for the last time, to make sure seungjun really isn't breathing he realizes what kind of petals they are. / _poppies_ / .  
he will dye his hair black until every trace of red is gone, every strand devoid of crimson as it left his hair like it had left seungjuns veins._ _ _ _

____His body goes cold and he freezes, until strong arms he can’t recognize pull him away from where he stands, gently guiding him to the chairs, because the wake is about to start._ _ _ _

____Hyojin notices that some people had actually left after his meltdown, now only a small group he actually recognized remaining. His friends and coworkers jaeyoung and minkyun, the bar keeper hyunggu, some college friends and hui who sits as far away from hyojin as possible, cradling the broken and empty bowl of noodles as if it could bring seungjun back.  
Thinking about how each and everyone of them had their own life, their own stories with seungjun in it makes hyojins head spin and he has to leave the room because the knot in his chest is tightening so bad he can´t breathe and needs some fresh air so he can calm down. _ _ _ _

____He stumbles out of the small church, tripping and landing in the muddy grass in front of a gravestone._ _ _ _

____„Henry V. 1599“_ _ _ _

____it reads in barely decipherable letters, moss overgrowing it to no ends. Hyojin isnt sure whether he should look to the sky or to the ground when he begins speaking;_ _ _ _

____„henry. Did your best friend kill you, henry?“, his voice sounds as dead and dull as the rock itself and he wishes he could lean against it until he, too, was overgrown with moss, forgotten and barely noticeable against the surroundings._ _ _ _

____„have you been a memory for so long that before the birds stopped talking about you all your loved ones were also already eaten up by bugs? I'm sorry I'm gonna forget you too henry. Im sorry“.  
He isn't even sure what he is trying to say, but at some point it feels disrespectful to talk to a dead person that wasn't seungjun so he stands up, not caring about the muddy grass stains on his clothes and makes his way inside again. _ _ _ _

____Stepping past the door he is still surprised at how mismatched the atmosphere is. Few people scattered on the wooden chairs, silently weeping, some alone, some in their friends' arms while the whole room is flooded by soft golden light._ _ _ _

____Seeing the devastation in front of him, hyojin suddenly feels as if every awful thing that had ever happened in anyone's life was his fault. Surely it had to be, when he was able to cause / _this_ /._ _ _ _

____He sits back in a chair again, once more hoping it would consume him and make him part of the ground, so him crumbling would be a normal part of nature, going unnoticed by everyone._ _ _ _

____The funeral is a haze, endless meaningless words ringing through the air, lingering like fog in hyojins brain. When it's his turn to shovel soil on the casket he halts when he notices how his hand is decorated by the rose quartz friendship bracelet seungjun had given him long ago.  
/ _a crystal for grief_ / he thinks bitterly and almost throws it into the grave, but he‘s not strong enough, he can‘t let go. ___ _

______When it's over, the sun hangs deep over the horizon, as if it wants to hug seungjun goodbye and hyojin still feels sick._ _ _ _ _ _

______He has already repressed the moment they lowered seungjuns casket into the ground, essentially burying a part of hyojin too and he deeply hopes he will never have to revisit those memories again._ _ _ _ _ _

______He just sits in front of the tomb, staring onto the carved letters on the stone, still fresh but soon to be overgrown just like henrys and it makes him feel so old and tired. Slowly, snow starts falling and even though hyojin has no idea how it can snow at this time of year, he is sure seungjun could pester whatever creatures there were in the afterlife to make it snow on the day of his fucking funeral. It almost makes hyojin laugh._ _ _ _ _ _

______People try to get him to stand up but all their „you´ll get a cold, i'm so sorry, my condolences´, are drowned out by the pain still rushing through his body, currents flooding away any remnants of a wall he had tried to build to keep it in._ _ _ _ _ _

______Who cared if hyojin got a cold, even died from it when lee seungjun was six feet under, forever sleeping._ _ _ _ _ _

______Someone crouches down to him and through the curtain of tears he could see his friend minkyun, actual honest sympathy etched on his face. The store owner had only met seungjun very briefly so he was mostly there for his friend, and Hyojin guesses it was easier to be sincere about death if you didn't have to pretend to mourn a person you didn't know._ _ _ _ _ _

______„hey“, he greets, taking hyojins freezing hands in his own. It´s the first warmth hyojin has felt in days and he wants to cry at feeling something so safe, something so familiar.  
„come on let’s get you up, it's really getting cold you know.“, he tries to pull hyojin up but the older man just shakes his head, scooting closer to the gravestone.  
„he just fucking left me kyun. He left me. And / _i _/ made him. I killed him“, he felt like his head is gonna explode with the pushing and pulling of anger at seungjun and guilt over his own actions roaming inside.  
Any words of comfort minkyun tries to offer are bouncing off of hyojin as he sinks deeper and deeper into his thoughts until he feels as if he´s the one they buried.  
„why did you leave, why did you leave? '' he whispers, completely blocking out minkyun still sitting beside him. ___ _ _ _ _ _

________„you don't get to take the easy way out. Whos the coward now you fucking idiot“ he begins, all the anger he had built up slowly tumbling out of him as his aura shakes the ground surrounding them as if a hyojin sized storm had just materialized out of thin air._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________„hey hyojin. Hyojin. You need to breathe. Please breathe for me or you're gonna end up hurting yourself“, minkyun is now using more force, trying to pry hyojin away from the monument but it was like a bulldogs jaw had locked his hands around it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________„it's not your fault hyojin. Look at me. Seungjun took his own life. That wasn't your doing“, but the other only shakes his head, pressing his hands to his ears, tears falling and falling and falling.  
„no. I wished that he would drop dead and he did“, the red haired man howls, hammering a hand on the gravestone.  
„why are you so fucking stupid seungjun why couldnt you have stayed? Youre the fucking coward here.“ his fist collides with the hard surface and he flinches when a picture of seungjuns startled expression flashes through his mind. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________„this is not me minkyun“ he chokes out, earning a confused look from the brown haired man._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________„this is... What?“, minkyun asks, seriously concerned about his friend's mental state right now. Hyojins eyes are glazed over and he stares right through his friend, as if he's trapped in a different dimension, a world where he apparently isn't himself._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________„they buried me. Thats not seungjun down there they fucking buried me. I'm the one who's dead. i can't breathe“, his voice is so quiet it's as faint as the snow slowly covering everything around them.  
And minkyun doesn't try to convince hyojin otherwise, knows it makes no sense so he just picks the small man up and carries him to his car, not wanting to see another one of his friends go. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Hyojin cries blood, the purest form of grief there is in their world, and it pools around his lips but he doesn't care, he only weeps harder, and minkyun doesn't know why, doesn´t know it's because he can only think of the way seungjuns hands were first covered in hyojins blood when he started stitching up the elders wound, later covered in his own, when hyojin had hit him. he thinks of the blood covering seungjuns entire arms when he found him, how it had felt like hyojin drowned right then and there, like seungjun took his sanity with him to the afterlife._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He trembles in minkyuns arms and presses a thumb into the stitches decorating his palm.  
He pushes and pushes until he feels the warm liquid coat his fingers, until his friends voice is far away, pushes until the pain is so bad it replaces the turmoil in his head with pure mind numbing pain._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you read this, thank you :‘))) please let me know what you think, it would mean a lot


	3. you had to kill me but it killed you just the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> „you know“, seungjun circles hyojin, putting a hand on his head, blood softly flowing down his arms, onto hyojins face, his clothes, the floor. „you did this _jinnie _“ he sneers and hyojin wants to shut his eyes, but he still fucking _cant _.____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take a shot everytime i fucking mention blood in this fic lmaoooo
> 
> so yeah warning for this chaper, blood, blood,blood, suicide, self harm, alcohol mention, 
> 
> also pls let me know if youd rather have a good-ish ending for his story or a tragedy (also pl let me know what you think about this chapter!!)

hyojin comes to in a dark red... he doesn't even know, underground railway?

The walls are damp and it smells like... red, like heat so intense it prevents you from breathing.  
_it smells like death_  
somewhere far away hyojin hears a faint sound of droplets hitting a cold surface and something compels him to follow it.  
It's like something is calling him, luring him into its trap and he`s helpless, a discarded dollar dragged along by an invisible string.

it feels like time exists in a vacuum, like the strange place is stretching itself endlessly through... wherever this is.

When he rounds a corner, he sees a small figure standing at the end of the path, lantern in its hand.  
Just.. staring... at something hyojin can't make out.  
He steps closer and even though the white hair is a dead giveaway he still hopes for it to be a different face.  
The smell abruptly becomes stronger and hits him headon, as if the time he walked there was a rollercoaster ride to the highest point and Seungjun turning around tipped it over.  
Worse than the smell is seungjuns appearance. Dressed in all white, eyes bloodshot, nose and lip still bruised. A terrifying grin stretching across his face, like someone who forgot what a mouth looks like tried to etch it into a pumpkin. 

„hello hyojin“, he greets in a sing-songy voice so cold hyojin involuntary shivers, even though he's drenched in sweat.  
Seungjun snaps open a straight razor, the one hyojin gave him, and lets it twirl around in his fingers. Hyojin tries to move but he can't, tries to grab the razor from his friends hands but he's frozen in place.  
Seungjun lifts his pale hand and runs his index finger along hyojins chin, making the elders' skin crawl like that simple touch somehow hexed a colony of ants under his skin.  
Hyojin wants to scream but he remains still, eyes fixed open by an invisible force as he watches seungjun lower the blade to his arms and sever his veins.  
„you know“, seungjun circles hyojin, putting a hand on his head, blood softly flowing down his arms, onto hyojins face, his clothes, the floor. „you did this, _jinnie_ “ he sneers and hyojin wants to shut his eyes, or rip them out, but he still fucking _cant move_.

____„look at what you've done!“, the white haired man now raises his voice, anger lacing every syllable like poison and the blood keeps flowing until everything around them is red, red, red.  
„look at this!“, seungjun screams, shoving his wrist right in front of hyojins face and suddenly the gashes turn into gaping tunnels and he stumbles over, falling and falling and-,_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____hyojin screams like his life depends on it, trashes around his bed like a wild animal, throwing his body against the wall like he's trying to break it, or himself.  
His heart feels like it's bursting out of his chest, thrumming inside his ribcage like a frightened bird.  
„it was a dream. It's not real. You're not real“, he whispers to no one and brings his trembling hands up to wipe his face._ _ _ _

_____/Blood. Again./_ _ _ _ _

______he cries blood almost every night now, as if some part of his nightmares are real and beginning to leak out.  
It's still dark, full moon illuminating the area trying to tell him that it's okay. But it isn't._ _ _ _ _ _

______He stumbles to the bathroom, eyes tired from crying and staying awake for countless hours.  
Hyojin looks in the mirror, audible hissing when he catches his reflection in the mirror. Face swollen and pale, a stark contrast to the coal black strands of hair that fall into his face.  
He is so goddamn tired of the colour red.  
Everytime he closes his eyes he either sees the images of his dreams, or from his real memory and he can't tell which ones are more gruesome, some days can't even tell which ones are which._ _ _ _ _ _

______He walks through mountains of dirty clothes and scattered items until he reaches the door and puts a coat on, visiting the only place that can make him feel worse._ _ _ _ _ _

______It's quiet around the church, snow softly falling, a warm blanket to those who would not know the difference.  
Seungjuns tombstone sticks out like a sore thumb, still shiny and fresh and /new/. No one ever seemed to die in this town unless they wanted to.  
Hyojin sits down in front of the stone, his tracks from the day before barely covered, another reminder of a day passed. He just stares at the surface, eyes blank, empty, dead.  
He slumps forward, recounting the memories from _that _day, doesn't know if it's to make them hurt more or less. The snow is falling harder now, settling down on his eyelashes, clouding his vision like the inflooding memories._____ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________[that day but from hyojins point of view aii]_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________„fuck you hyojin“, seungjun spits at him, eyes hard and clear like diamonds, painful like a searing hot iron._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The door slams shut and it feels like everything around hyojin is falling apart, tumbling down, until he realizes that it _/is/_ ,his magic lashing out, ravaging through the room like a hurricane, destroying everything in its sight.  
Hyojin doesnt know hes screaming until his vocal chords burn like they're about to snap, doesnt know hes on the ground until his knees start to hurt.  
He can't understand what made him so furious, it feels like some kind of angry vengeful demon has possessed him, and maybe one _/has/_ , because his rage is out of control, consuming him from the inside out.  
„you're dead to me seungjun.“ he presses through gritted teeth, jaw straining so hard he fears it might crack, spilling his teeth like the words he uttered moments ago.  
„drop dead for all i care fuck!“, theres a sudden shift in the air, like a ghost flying out of the window and hyojins rage falters for a bit.  
Did he just cast a spell? Did he curse seungjun? His brain can't comprehend anything that's happening so he doesn't know, but the thought has planted itself right in the pit of hyojins stomach, building roots and starting to sprout, twisting his insides._____ _ _ _ _ _

______________He paces the room frantically, eyes darting around and taking in all the chaos his outburst had brought. There are books scattered everywhere, pages ripped out. Most of the cabinets are open, drawers violently pulled out. Potions spilled, plants crushed, his, or more so /minkyuns/ lifes work havocked in an instant.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________The fire rushing out of his fingertips has left him tired, exhausted and he can slowly grasp thoughts again.  
He needs to find seungjun, and he needs to do it fast, because there's a gnawing feeling in the back of his skull telling him that that was not just a harmless sentence he uttered, that there was something more real, more violent behind that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________He first visits hyunggus small bar not far from his magic shop. There's no one in there, just the barkeeper himself, faintly humming along to a jazzy melody, polishing some wine glasses. he's wearing a bulky sweater, hair swooped back in soft strands, the dim candle light blurring the edges around everything making him look like an oil painting, or an old photo.  
Hyunggu almost drops his glass when he spots hyojin, all drenched in water and tears, robe burned off at the corners, hair in a state of such disarray it's almost admirable.  
„hyojin“, with a flick of his wrist there's a steaming cup in front of him, inviting hyojin to sit down. Concern pulls hyunggus ' pretty face into a deep frown and hyojin almost feels bad._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________„what's wrong?“, the barkeeper asks, the question making the bottomless pit in hyojins heart grow even wider._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________„seu-seungjun“, he manages to choke out, hyperventilating, almost crashing into the barstool.  
„has he been here? He usually goes here when he's not well right“, hyunggu traces comforting circles into hyojins shivering hands, looks up at him with sadness in his eyes.  
„im sorry, hyojin, i haven't seen him in a few days actually.“. The flickering glow of the candlelights now seem to burn hyojin, he flinches away and scrambles out of the chair, stumbling backwards towards the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________„I'm sorry. Thank you“. Hyunggus response is cut off by the rain crashing down on the pavement so loud hyojin can't hear himself think, and he's thankful for it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Back in the store he tries to clean up a bit, worry eating away at his insides. He knows that he can't reach seungjun at his castle, because if the wizard didn't want his home to be entered, it wouldn't. Hyojin always did wonder if there wasn't a bit of vampires blood present in seungjuns blood.  
So he just waits, seconds stretching endlessly into the void, praying for nothing bad to happen.  
Then he gets a call from seungjun and almost falls out of his chair, then out into the rain when he hears the state his friend is in. Through the speaker he can tell seungjun is still angry, but there's something else. Something fading. And it makes hyojins veins freeze, makes him run through the floods, through the seemingly endless streets up the hill.  
He tries to calm seungjun down but then the line goes dead and he manually has to force himself to breathe or else he would collapse right then and there on the small winding pebble road._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________He isn't far away now, can see the dark castle from afar, only a few lights on._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________His feet are numb and his body hurts, it /burns/ and only the pure primal fear of death is somehow keeping him going as if he was seungjuns stringed up puppet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________To hyojins luck, the gate is open, and he bolts through it, rushing up the stairs, knocking wildy on every door. The first one that makes him stop is the bathroom. It's open and there's mayhem inside. Dried blood, so much blood, smeared on the counter, the wall, pooling on the floor. There's sick next to the toilet and the combination of smells and visuals blurs his sight, weakens his knees. Then he sees the razor, sharp dragon tooth blade glistening in the light, and its glistening red.  
Hyojin wants to faint.  
But he has to keep going, needs to find seungjun, so he picks himself up and runs down the next corridor, spotting the light shining through a crack at the end of it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________It almost seems like it's mocking hyojin, the bright yellow stripe laughing and urging for him to come closer, to see what it's illuminating behind the door.  
He weakly pushes it back, wood turning to coal from the terrified heat in his fingertips and then he sees seungjun.  
The small man lays on his back between the sheets, phone still in his hand, like he somehow hoped hyojin would save him.  
The bed is splattered in red, as if he's sleeping on a white flower covered meadow, only that he's not sleeping, he's dead.  
Seungjuns eyes are empty, hollow like snow globes where someone removed all the snow and the figurines, all the /life./   
„no no seungjun no!“, hyojin yells out, almost slipping on the bloody floor as he makes his way to the bed, cradling seungjun in his arms. The younger feels cold, only his wrists still kind of warm, crimson still flowing out.  
„i. no. Chang, changyoon“, hyojin is hyperventilating, taking too much air in and not breathing any of it. He has to redial the doctors number multiple times, hands shaking so bad his muscles start to hurt.  
While trying to wrap a bandage around seungjuns wrists he finally reaches changyoon who can barely understand hyojin through his sobs, but agrees to meet him half ways to the castle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Hyojin drops the phone and presses the gauze on seungjuns wrist, tears mixing with the blood thats now covering his hands.  
„seungjun come here, it's okay, you're okay. You're gonna be okay seungjun do you hear me?“, he shakes seungjuns motionless frame and screams, hoping he could somehow scare the life back into him. Despite being so small, seungjuns limp body weighs hyojin down, and hyojin is weak so he has to drag seungjun out of the room, leaving a terrible streak of blood.  
He carries seungjun down the stairs and lays him on the sofa, rumbling through the cabinets for some kind of healing potion. He notices something steaming on the counter and spots a weird looking cocktail mixture next to various empty and open wine and liquor bottles. he's already lost count of how often he has felt like fainting this day but that somehow makes it worse.  
Yuto must have poisoned seungjun accidentally, that's why he died. That must've been it.  
Thats something he can grasp, a real person hyojin can blame, and he does it, takes the pain and tears and blood and paints yuto in the worst light he can imagine, tossing the blame to anyone but himself. he ignores the fight with seungjun, ignores the gaping cuts on his wrist. no. it mustve been the drink. it had to be. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________He crouches down besides the sofa and hugs seungjun, presses the cold body into his own, hoping to warm him up.  
Hyojin wants to faint.  
Seungjun feels fragile in his arms, like the heartbeat of a bird is slowly dying in hyojins hands, fluttering away and taking everything with it. Hyojin is numb and frantic, he can't hear or see or feel properly, so he doesn't know if his mind is playing a cruel trick on him or not. Shifting his gaze back to seungjun, he holds his hands, weeping, and with the rain still pouring down around him , hyojin feels utterly, and completely alone._ _ _ _ _ _ _


	4. you know i didnt want to, have to haunt you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And I can go anywhere I want  
>  Anywhere I want, just 💥not 💥home💥 ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEAHHHH BOI i finally finished this stupid chapter i still kinda hate it lmao but i hope someone else will like this. this chapter is a bit about how juice deals w the grief.  
> half of the shit i write doesnt make any fucking sense but kinda nothing in this story does so yeah ✨✨✨✨✨  
> thank u pen for reading over this and rewriting that ocean metaphor so beautifully mwah

The snow keeps falling so slowly and silently that it looks like there is ash floating through the air, like the night after a disaster struck.

Minkyun halts between the seconds for a while, just taking in the quiet, then sighs and puts his coat on, getting into his car and turning the key. The metal is cold against his fingertips, it kinda feels like hes trying to start up the engine with a piece of chipped ice, and his breath leaves cold tendrils in the air that go away with his steady thoughts, like shadows being chased away by the first morning light.

He drives past the array of dark houses, the whole town seems lulled into a never ending slumber and minkyun almost feels like an intruder, a raindrop waking a sleeping pond.

At his destination he already sees the slumped down figure from afar and he walks up the hill with a tensed jaw and eyes like halogen lights. Nowadays hyojin couldn't find rest, so he would visit the cemetary to look for it at seungjuns gravestone and talk to him until he fell asleep, curled up on the marble plate, not caring about the cold or the constant falling of snow.

The area around the grave was a mess, plants ripped out, the ground rough and uneven, bearing witness to hyojin's frequent violence outbursts. Hyojins magic was tied to his emotions so like everything else in his life, it crashed and burned down, not caring for casualtys. Minkyun slowly inches closer, careful not to startle his friend.

Hyojin's black hair is sprawled out on the white snow like burnt coal, contrasting his pale skin and the small red specks blooming around his face. He still cries blood every day.

Hyojins grief not only froze him, it also had an iron grip around minkyuns heart that tightened every time hyojin wouldn't talk to the younger and instead just cry in minkyuns arms and go on about how it was his fault that seungjun killed himself, but never say _why_ the guilt was slowly seething through him.

Minkyun slowly shakes the shivering man awake making hyojin flinch as if he just kicked him.

„hey, hyojin, come on,” minkyuns hand lingers on hyojins shoulder, his warm palm a contrast to the others freezing frame, like blood on a stone.

“You fell asleep again“, minkyun says with a sad voice, handing the older a warm coat.

The raven haired man looks up at him with watery eyes, but doesnt take the coat, he never does. 

„oh i. Sorry i guess.“ he looks so tired, eyes hollow and dull like they aged way too fast, and it breaks minkyun's heart that he's only a helpless bystander, locked out by the glass walls hyojin had built around him.

They sit in silence a few moments that stretch themselv into endless horizons and hyojin just stares at the tombstone as if it's talking to him.

„do you think he's gonna come back“, hyojin asks suddenly, a tiny speck of hope in his voice and minkyun is lost for words for a while.

„what do you mean?“, minkyun wonders, genuinely curious.

„i don't know, but, ghosts exist in this world right? they _have_ to. Do you think he's gonna come back and talk to me?“,

hyojin starts to look frantic, disshevelled hair framing his features, his skin paper thin with dark shadows under his eyes that expose the lack of sleep.

„i hope so, but wouldn't he have made contact by now, then? If he was able to come back?“, minkyun hates crushing hyojins hopes like this, wishes he could do something, _anything_ , to resolve this thing between the two, to put a tiny crack in hyojins facade.

„i dont know, maybe- maybe he's here and just can't talk to us...“, hyojin ponders, looking around the graveyard as if seungjun was suddenly gonna pop out behind one of the stones.

Minkyun squeezes hyojins cold hand and scoots closer. „if there's a way, you know seungjun's gonna find it. If there's anyone who could do that, it's him.“

A small tear escapes hyojin eyes, clear and watery this time.

„but he hates me. And he died thinking that _i_ hate _him._ He left because of me“. Minkyun knows nothing he says will convince hyojin otherwise but he still tries.

„hyojin. he loved you more than anything in the world, ask anyone who ever met you two. No, scratch that. You could ask the trees or the wind, or every letter in every book, they would all tell you, because they would all _know_.“

„you don't understand..“, hyojin croaks but drops the topic and finally follows minkyun to his car, turning back around to the cold stone multiple times, always hoping for a flash of white hair, a nosy chuckle.

Minkyun doesn't even have to ask to know that hyojin doesn't want to return to his own apartment because too many nightmares haunt the small space. At night they sweep through it like a cold december blizzard, shattering the windows, leaving it vast like the house itself was an empty vessel, plauged by memories.

He glances at hyojin and wonders if the reason why the older goes out sleeping in the bitter cold is to give his pain a home, turn it into something physical, something he can grasp.

The blurry street lights swim by the window, momentarily engulfing the two in something warm, something safe, and minkyun resists the urge to just never stop the car, to drive on until the shadows leave hyojins head, until they're only surrounded by light.

-

They arrive at minkyun's small house, shrouded by trees and a velvet quiet, the forest welcoming them back.

Inside, they follow their usual routine: minkyun brews tea, and while they wait for the kettle to fill the house with a bright chirping, he insists that hyojin sleeps in the bed, while hyojin tiredly refuses to let minkyun spend the night on a couch in his own house, so they end up both sleeping in his bed, cuddling with minkyuns raven-cats, because really, both of them don't want to be alone anyways.

The first traces of dusk have climbed over the mountains and dance through the air and they bring the sleep that seeps through the crack of the windows like syrup, making mynkuns eyelids heavy, his head slow.

Theres a shuffling beside him and he turns around to find hyojin staring at him with glazed over eyes.

„he wouldve loved the snow so early in the year,“ hyojin says, small smile on his lips.

„he always got so excited at the first snowflake, like a fucking puppy.“, minkyun laughs at that, but it's laced with bittersweet pain, knowing that he'd never see hyojin excitedly clock out of his shift again to spend time in the snow with seungjun.

„god i fucking miss him“, hyojins voice trembles and breaks slightly at the next words.

„i want to dance in the snow with him again. Do you think it'll snow in spring again?“

Again, there's a small sliver of hope in the sentence, like a barely uttered promise, as if hyojin really believes he's gonna see seungjun again.

It breaks minkyun's heart, leaves him lost for words and air, so he lets the sleep take over his sentences and drifts off into a peaceful world, without sorrow or grief.

Hyojin falls asleep with blood on his face and a name on his lips, haunting him in his sleep, again and again.

☾

Wind and snow brush past his hair, ruffling it and sweeping through his every cell, freezing. He sits on the window sill, knees pulled up to his chest, looking at hyojin sleeping soundly, a frown still etched on his face.

Because seungjun did come back, never left their world actually. He doesnt know if hes a ghost or a memory, a trace of himself damned to sit by and watch idly as everyone either distortes their memories of him or forget about him, essentially killing him twice.

seungjun feels like he's slowly being pulled apart, he's at the mercy of every one of hyojin's emotions, pushing and pulling between anger, guilt, sadness, regret, shame; ripping through him like rapids, tossing seungjun around. he's unable to do anything, just flounders as the current knocks his feet out from under him, throwing him around before finally casting him back out onto shore. he only just gets his bearings, then has to repeat the whole thing over again and again and again.

He, too, misses hyojin. He misses him so much it's tearing him apart, and he _hates_ himself, and sometimes hyojin, maybe even the whole world for seperating them. Seungjun is desperate but he can't do anything to quell his desperation, and that just incites it further.

Soon after his death he learned that he’s not only able to go through walls, but that in the blink of an eye he can teleport to different countries.

So for a while seungjun does just that, to escape hyojins all consuming grief and tries to find solace in the unknown, travel to places he never even dreamed of visiting when he was alive, because now he can go anywhere he desires.

But its no use, nothing mends that dull ache growing in his heart, so he finds himself back in that town, staying around in attempt to find his way back.

Because even though he can be in any place hed want, he only wants to be with hyojin, because hyojin is his _home_ , but where once he lingered around the entryways of doors welcoming him with warm light theres now only a hollowed out dark cold left, and all the doors are locked and nobodys home.

☽

seungjuns heart still aches thinking about the funeral. He saw his friends, the people he loved gathered in that room. Even people he thought didn't care about him, they were all there, grieving. He saw hui, weeping at the casket, saw hyojin scream at his friend, he saw _himself_. it felt strange, looking at his lifeless body, so at peace, when he died in such agony.

Even though seungjun was still uncertain how he should feel about hyojin and how they had parted, even though he still felt angry and confused, it killed him watching hyojin blame himself and fall apart right then and there in the cathedral. He had tried to move any object in the room, tried to ruffle hyojin's hair, _anything_ , to tell the older that he was there, and that he didn't blame him.

Sometimes, when his rational thoughts left with the sun, the ugly creature reared its head in seungjuns guts and he blamed hyojin, wanted to really haunt him, make his life miserable and agonizing. But not here, not now.

Seungjun had only heard about ghost possessions in tales and drunken stories, but was desperate enough to try it out anyways, walking right into yuto, trying to disappear into him and emerge as someone else, but as soon as he touched the potion master he was abruptly thrown back, discarded on the hard shiny floor as if he just tried to walk through a mirror.

But there was a shift, and hyojin _saw_ something, caught glimpse of some version of seungjun because he called out his name and scrambled away in terror, leaving seungjun sad and confused, because he had only meant to be kind, brush a subtle it's okay in the air around them.

The look on hyojins face when he was met with seungjuns cold, dead body burned itself behind seungjuns eyelids, like a white hot wire he couldnt shake from his mind and he wished he could just come back that instant, sink into the coffin and breathe life back into himself, step out and apologize to hyojin for making him worry.

„your funeral huh“, he heard an airy voice, and when he looked up he saw his friend henry floating through the window as soft and quiet as the sunbeams.

„i suppose so.“ seungjun said, eyes still fixed on his own body, and felt creepted out, like reality was shifting around him.

„well your boyfriend is having a mental breakdown on _my_ gravestone right now so you b-“,

„he is /not/ my boyfriend, how often have we been through this?“, seungjun interrupted him, rubbing his temples. „and besides, he fucking hates me for leaving him and he cant see me so i cant do anything anyways“.

„That sounds much like a shakespearean tragedy my dear seungjun.“, henry sneered and avoided the hand that was swatting his way.

‚but i dont want hyojin to die at the end..“, seungjun whispered so meekly, not even the wind, let alone henry would have been able to hear him.

They both sat in silence as they listened to the eulogies people were giving. Seungjun was glad for henry's company, one of the few ghosts he had met since his passing a few days ago.

-

When he first woke up, thrown back into the world he had tried so desperately to leave, seungjun didn't see many ghosts around town, which was weird enough, but the one he did see was even weirder. He had sat on an old well, staring straight ahead, almost falling in when seungjun greeted him.

„oh my, what have we here?“, he asked with a strange voice, dull eyes staring right into seungjuns body, „and who are you haunting?“.

the ghost seemed old, like a faded image and seungjun briefly wondered if his imagination was only playing a prank on him, but he replied anyways.

„no one. Not on purpose at least. But i had a falling out with a friend shortly before i died so now i'm just. Here. I guess“, the ghost's eyes stared holes into the empty gashes on seungjuns wrist, making him feel small and monitored.

„a falling out huh“, he said, eyes not moving at all.

„well then. I'm henry the fifth. Pleased to make your acquaintance“, he held a ghostly hand out, seungjun shaking it hesitantly.

„seungjun.“

From then on, the two developed a strange kind of friendship, fueled by the grim aftertaste of being left in a world that didnt see them, where they were separated by a glass veil, shiny and cold and keeping everything away from them.

❅

as the funeral began, henry and seungjun had sat in two of the empty seats, waiting as seungjun's cold deep bed was forever made. And seungjun had felt every bit of soil they threw on his casket, felt every ounce of darkness as it slowly pushed the casket down, forever.

Henry only patted his shoulder, trying to comfort his shaking frame. It felt unfair, seeing his loved ones bid their farewells to him and him not being able to return them. unfair that he was stuck, having to grieve his own death, seeing it destroy the person most important to him.

Seungjun had cried then, cried at the memory of hyojin yelling at him, cried at how helpless he felt, every moment passing by like a movie, with him as a watcher, powerless, unable to change anything.

✨

Seungjun stayed with hyojin through everything, hoping to somehow grant the older a bit of comfort, even though he knew hyojin couldn't see or feel or hear him.

Seungjun stayed with him through the tears, the terrifying nights, the violent breakdowns, where hyojin's magic ripped everything from the walls and left him gasping for air.

Stayed with him through the tears and the shaking as hyojin dyed his hair black, frantically trying to cover every bit of red he could find. He laid down beside him through the nightmares, sat next to him at his own grave when hyojin went there to pour his heart out to the moon. he tried to be there despite not being there at all.

Now he sits helplessly on the window sill, eyeing hyojin with that concerned stare that hasnt left his face in days. he can only watch when hyojins body starts to twitch and his face starts to curl up in pain, as nightmares ravage through his mind, and it looks like hes at high sea, lost and trying to find a way home without avail. seungjun wants to hug hyojin, wants to wrap around him like the pile of blankets minkyun provided to warm him up, because seungjun knows he would be able to make hyojin stop shaking and that in his arms hyojins body wouldnt look so small and frail.

hes watching hyojin tremble and crimson slowly trickle out of his eyes sliding down his face leaving streaks, like a physical manifestation of the traces of grief.

all he wants to do is wipe the tears away like he once wiped the blood from hyojins injured hand, but just as back then, hes powerless and has to let himself be swiped up and thrown around by hyojins emotions once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this was angsty enough :‘) please let me know what you think of this!!!


End file.
